


Ravens' Notes

by Mytha



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Angst, Bathing, Cuddles, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, Nevarran customs, Prompt Fill, Romance, Sharing a Bed, one shots, the twin moons of Thedas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-24 14:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mytha/pseuds/Mytha
Summary: A home for Dragon Age prompt fills.1. "Wanna dance?" Cassandra/f!Hawke2. "Is there a reason you are naked in my bed?" Morrigan/Vivienne3. "Have you lost your damn mind?" Cassandra/Josephine4. "A laughing kiss" Cassandra/Josephine (Teaching AU)5. "They're monsters!" Leliana/Cassandra6. "This is my bed, too!" Cassandra & Sera7. "In the water/in the bath" Cassandra/Josephine8. "Cuddles - and a first kiss" Josephine/Leliana9. "Of course I remembered." Josephine/Cassandra10. "Nevarran customs" You & Sera & Cassandra





	1. Cassandra/f!Hawke - Wanna dance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "Wanna dance?" Cassandra Pentaghast/f!Hawke for ChocoChipBiscuit.

Hawke was lonely. Up here on Skyhold’s battlements, it was almost a good thing to be. The clear sky showed myriad stars, like diamonds spilled over dark blue velvet. Snow-capped mountains framed it like frozen, frothing waves. Yes, by all accounts, the view was beautiful.

She was not generally fond of mountains, mainly because one had to get up the void-forsaken things somehow, but the Frostbacks were truly majestic here. She could appreciate that. Soak in the experience. How likely was she to return to Skyhold after she set off for the Western Approach?

She was not in a hurry to actually join the Inquisition for good. This was just a favor for Varric – and doing the right thing.

She sighed. Deep below in the valley some fires and lights from the camps broke through the darkness, but all human life seemed far away from her. Maybe this was better. Maybe it was good to be alone.

Even the sounds of Skyhold came to her only muffled – as if a great blanket was thrown over her, separating her and everyone else. The yards had cleared and everyone still awake was either in their private or work rooms, the big communal hall or the tavern.

Arguably, the tavern produced the most noise that still drifted up to her perch on this half-ruined tower. It was pleasant really. Diffuse shouts, laughs and murmurs creating their own strange rhythm - and melodies drifting over towards her on the wind. There was always a bard there.

She smiled, recognizing a tune. This one had been popular in Ferelden before the Blight. When she was a girl in Lothering, she had sung it with Bethany, trying to harmonize and failing horribly, but dancing breathlessly through their house bellowing it all the same.

There were steps that went with it. She stood, trying to remember them, mouthing the lyrics, starting to move to the music. She was almost 15 again, carefree – in her mother’s kitchen, twirling Bethany, yelling this song about a hunter finding his true love…

“Champion?! What are you doing up there?” The voice was loud and the accent familiar, but decidedly not Fereldan. The illusion faded like smoke blown apart by a sudden gust of wind.

Familiar defiance welled up in Hawke as she felt a new idea take root in her. “Hey, Seeker!” she shouted to the voice below. “Wanna dance?”


	2. Morrigan/Vivienne - Is there a reason?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for hibernate: "Is there a reason you are naked in my bed?" for Morrigan/Vivienne

Morrigan watched the supplicants arriving in the Great Hall with growing unease. She had not expected so many Orlesians to follow the Inquisition back to Skyhold after their foiling of Corypheus’ attack on Empress Celene. At least they remained contained in the hall for the most part and were unlikely to set foot into the garden that she herself often retreated to. Even there, however, she was often overrun by curious “agents” of the Inquisition hoping to pick her brains and offering nothing in return.

It was vexing, truly, that even at Skyhold she seemed to be following Vivienne’s footsteps. At Halamshiral, courtiers had only been too fond of reminding her at every occasion of her glamorous predecessor, Madame de Fer, so well-versed in the Game, so stylish and always au courant.

In contrast, no amount of beautiful, thrice-blasted ball gowns, jeweled masks or praise from Empress Celene stopped the sideways looks, the murmurs of “Celene’s swamp witch” and “her new wildling apostate.”

Well, she had not expected the court to adore her, but the perpetual comparison to the magnificent Madame Vivienne was grating – and here she was _again_!

Privy already to the Inquistor’s secrets, Vivienne was Trevelyan’s trusted companion and holding court above the Grand Hall in plain view of the Inquisitor’s throne, while the Inquisitor seemed to have all but forgotten about Morrigan and the expertise she could bring to the Inquisition after bringing her back to Skyhold.

Speaking to Vivienne herself was equally trying – a mere exercise in formalities and the niceties of the Game, practised players dancing around each other, divulging nothing.

Yet Morrigan knew there were secrets to be had. Dorian was willing enough to part with his over a bottle of fine wine, Solas was a lost cause if she ever saw one – impermeable to her charms and unwilling to speak to her on anything of consequence. She knew Vivienne at least had some interest in her - and some secrets worth discovering.

It had been easy to locate Viviennne’s quarters, easy to alter her form and slip through a crack in the door. Inside she found a true treasury of correspondence, books and magical items.

The thrill of finally catching a glimpse of the enchanter’s secrets gave her a heady rush that sent tingles through her body. She tried to memorize as much as possible until she grew restless and slipped out again, careful to return each item to its place, leaving the room as she had found it.

Her visits to the enchanter’s quarters became almost regular. It was addictive to get to know Vivienne so intimately without giving away anything herself.

When the enchanter was gone for weeks with the Inquisitor’s party and there was no change in the elements and contents of Vivienne’s quarters, it was disappointing at first, but then Morrigan discovered that secreting herself away in the momentarily uninhabited room brought her quite another sense of pleasure altogether. ’T would be a pity indeed to let such beautiful quarters go unused. Nobody knew or expected her to be there, so she could be wholly undisturbed for hours, reading on Vivienne’s luxurious bed.

After Vivienne returned and she could no longer abscond to the enchanter’s quarters whenever she felt like it, it was almost a disappointment. Once again, she had to wait for Vivienne to be occupied and distracted by her visitors in the Grand Hall before making the trip to her quarters.

Oh! But how she itched to finally have new secrets to discover, longed to dive back into the tome of magical history she had begun perusing. The pull of the room was magnetic.

Finding the corridor deserted, it was easy to attract no attention at all when she shifted her form to a tiny spider, undetectable and slim, gracefully slipping into Vivienne’s inner sanctum. The thrill sent shivers down her spine.

There were new letters on the bed, discarded as if Vivienne had left abruptly. Morrigan’s eight spidery legs traveled swiftly up the rich fabric of the quilt and onto the bed itself – where, suddenly, she felt something snap taut, canceling her magic, her spell stripped away completely and brusquely making her revert back to her human self and not even able to call forth her enchanted garments.

Far worse even, after she recovered from the shock, she noticed that she was absolutely unable to move, held taut in the grip of a magical vise, forced to stare up at the ceiling, unable to even shout for help – not that she would have wanted to attract the attention of random passers-by to her situation.

The wait was excruciating. She cursed herself for her carelessness, her stupidity. She had only herself to blame. How her mother would have laughed!

She was past mortification and frankly just very cold when she heard Vivienne return and her footsteps approaching the bed.

The enchanter’s mellifluous voice made her shiver. “Is there a reason, darling, that you are naked in my bed?”


	3. Cassandra/Josephine - Have you lost your mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for jt-boi-n7 and the prompt "Have you lost your damn mind?"

It had been a long and trying day. Being Divine was not something Cassandra had sought out, but the Maker had willed it and she was happy to serve – or so she had to keep reminding herself when surrounded by gaggles of Chantry mothers and representatives from every corner of Thedas seeking to draw her into their every petty disagreement.

This evening she had attended a service held by Mother Agata, newly arrived from Antiva, at which she had been expected to lead a prayer as well. Divine Victoria was always needed. In public, she could no longer simply be Cassandra.

She wearily dismissed the Chantry servant that had helped her divest herself of the complicated headdress of the Divine and headed to the small library at the heart of her apartment at the Grand Cathedral. It had become her evenings’ refuge.

There she found a covered tray with her supper, left by the servant who knew she liked to be left to enjoy her solitude with a good book at the end of the day. A small stack of missives sent by raven waited for her there, as well as letters that were of a personal nature and that she looked forward to opening.

It was a relief to hear from Leliana, who sent deplorably witty notes from the sessions of the Council she attended, from the Inquisitor, who sent updates from the Inquisition’s ongoing endeavors in diary form – and the occasional drawing of their campsite views – and even from Varric, who kept teasing her about wanting an endorsement of the Divine on his next issue of Swords and Shields.

Most of all, she looked forward to Josephine’s letters. Their courtship at Skyhold had been all too brief – barely begun – when she had been called away to be made Divine. They had made no promises to each other, it was difficult to predict what would become of them now that she had taken the vows of the Divine – but she held on to the memories she had of their secret picnics and poetry shared under the stars. If only she had known then that their time together was to be so short – she would have…

Cassandra sighed deeply. There was no letter from Josephine today. She took ink and paper to her desk and began to compose one to her instead. Josephine liked to hear about her days at the Grand Cathedral and had encouraged her to put down her thoughts. However clumsy Cassandra’s writing seemed to herself, she knew it would make Josephine happy and imagining her beautiful smile, the joy shining in her dark eyes as she opened her letter, made Cassandra’s heart feel a little lighter.

Josephine’s letters, of course, were works of art, poetry! The words sang on the page and brought to her the very essence of Josephine’s loveliness and charm. Cassandra treasured them, reread them – barely touching the paper for fear of wearing it too much – with trembling hands, smiles and a few times even tears.

Leliana teased her, of course. Sometimes with a smile, but lately more often with a sad look in her eyes. Cassandra was not quite sure what to make of it.

Her correspondence dealt with, she finished her supper, which she had already been snacking on while reading Varric’s lengthy and irreverent report from Kirkwall. She put his letter aside with a smile and a disgusted noise and reached over to pour herself a glass of diluted wine.

A noise made her stop and listen. Had she imagined it? There it was again! A low rumble somewhere… below – or was it?

She stood and took a few steps into the direction it had come from. Again! In the wall? Cassandra grabbed one of the heavy candlesticks from her bureau and readied herself.

There! She almost gasped. One of the panels opened and a hooded figure stepped through. She lunged forward and grabbed the front of its cloak, shoving it back against the wall, raising the candlestick – and stopped, thunderstruck.

“Cassandra! Have you lost your mind?!” Josephine shrieked, eyes wide with fear.

Cassandra released her instantly. The candlestick dropped to the floor, making them both jump again.

“Josephine,” Cassandra breathed, utterly shaken, “how did you…?”

“Leliana showed me! Forgive me, I did not mean to…” Josephine’s expression turned hesitant. “Maybe I was wrong to come.”

“No!” Cassandra protested and reached out to take her hand. “Please stay!”


	4. A Laughing Kiss - Josephine/Cassandra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In reply to Mercurialmind's prompt "a laughing kiss" for Josephine/Cassandra - a Teaching AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also my thanks to ChocoChipBiscuit for indulging me with their thoughts on an Inquisition Teaching AU - it was inspiring. ;)

Josephine watches Cassandra's exasperation grow over the course of the evening. In their little home office, their desks are facing each other. She sees Cassandra bend over her grading with concerned frowns and sighs, adjusting her reading glasses impatiently, her pen descending time and again into the margins of her students' work. 

Josephine's own work is already done. In contrast to Cassandra's English students, her students do not yet possess the ability to write lengthy essays in Spanish, but are forced instead to content themselves with emails to imaginary pen-pals, which make for quicker corrections. She remains at her desk partially in sympathy with Cassandra, whose stack of essays promises a good few hours of more work, partially because her research has led her down the rabbit hole of the Internet, as it is wont to do. 

However, it is almost midnight and if they are to get enough rest to steel their nerves for the coming day of teaching they should probably call it a night. Cassandra screws her eyes shut, stifling a yawn, then underlines something on the paper in front of her, furiously.

“ _Mi Amor_ , are they so beyond hope?” Josephine lets her voice lilt with teasing concern. 

Cassandra gives a snort and looks up at her with desperation in her eyes. “They just do not see the passion, the poetry in the text! Or if they do see it, they are unimpressed.” She shakes her head and leafs through her already-graded essays. “This one has written on the patriarchal oppression of Juliet, this one on the futility of love in the face of familial enmity – on the whole they are all in agreement that _Romeo and Juliet_ is an extremely poor example of an ideal love story,“ she says with resigned sadness. “I cannot fault their methods. They are mostly well-written essays, I am just...” she falters with a tired sigh. 

“You wish they had a greater appreciation for the _romance_.” Josephine surmises. “What about Eduardo? I have heard good things about him.”

“Ugh, yes, he is very good, but he has transferred over from Varric's class and so has written on the phallic properties of the apron stage.” Cassandra's nose crinkles, making her glasses slip down further. Annoyed, she takes them off. Josephine is sorry to see them go – they do suit Cassandra awfully well. 

Josephine makes small noises she hopes express her commiserations and moves to Cassandra's side, placing her hand softly on Cassandra's arm. “Come to bed with me, my love? Surely you do not intend to finish these tonight?”

She can see the indecision in Cassandra's eyes as they shift back to the stack of ungraded essays and, seeing an opportunity, decides to press her luck. Sinking to her knees she whispers as huskily as she dares: “O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”

Cassandra's eyes dart back to hers in an instant. Josephine knows she has won this battle as she sees an irresistible smile tug at Cassandra's lips repeatedly, mirth lighting up her honey-dark eyes.

Amusement tinges Cassandra's rich voice delightfully and it makes Josephine's heart – and also, frankly, other parts of her - sing as she hears her reply: “What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” 

There is a challenge in Cassandra's eyes and Josephine rises to it: “The exchange of thy love's faithful vow...” Josephine begins eagerly but is silenced swiftly by Cassandra's kiss as she is borne up and up into an ardent embrace by Cassandra's strong arms. She feels the low rumble of Cassandra's laugh through the kiss and deepens it, drawing her lover towards her as desire shoots to her very core.

Finally they break apart for air, giddy and light-headed. Cassandra has stopped laughing and when she picks up Josephine to carry her to their bed she declares earnestly: “I gave thee mine before thou didst request it; And yet I would it were to give again.” 

Josephine hums into Cassandra's neck contentedly. “Maybe _I_ should come to your class. We could teach...” 

Her mouth is stopped again with a kiss. This time Cassandra does not let her speak again.


	5. Leliana/Cassandra - They're monsters!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for jt-boi-n7 and the prompt "They're monsters!"

“They’re _monsters_!”

The hurt and shocked anguish in Cassandra’s voice made Leliana’s heart constrict painfully. The Seeker had been at the front line defending Haven from the hordes of Red Templars attacking it. She longed to reach out to her counterpart, to offer some words of comfort – but none came.

Finally they knew what had happened to the Templar order, but the revelation had been a most horrific one. Bodies unrecognizable. Twisted and raw, torn apart by glowing lyrium crystals in angry red. Inhuman screams from heads with blistering, weeping sores that spat lyrium.

What had happened to all these people? Who had done it? When? Why? They were truly monsters now – beyond reason.

Leliana watched Cassandra wipe blood and grime off her face and, visibly still shaken, try to compose herself before turning to help Leliana tend to the wounded. They had retreated to Haven’s Chantry now, barely able to recover and regroup after the initial confrontation and the battle at Haven’s gates.

This revelation hit closer home for Cassandra, of course, Leliana knew. The Right Hand had always worked more closely with the Templars than the Left, her Seeker expertise giving her an insight Leliana could only guess at.

No doubt the horror of the Red Templars’ transformation gnawed at Cassandra fresh, sharp and hot.

Were there Seekers among them? Leliana had not asked. Even if not, Cassandra must have had some friends among the Templars, Leliana thought. If not friends – maybe acquaintances long held – faces grown fond of. Contacts provided by Cullen –

Leliana’s thoughts were interrupted by the Inquisitor calling out to them – calling Cassandra to her side. Cassandra answered the call immediately, duty-bound, face sobering and setting in a familiar determined frown.

Their momentary rest in the shelter of Haven’s Chantry was only a short respite from the fight - among the horror of the wounded and the dead - before they would have to face their attackers again – to face the dragon. The Inquisitor was bound to set out again, taking Cassandra with her.

Leliana began to pray.


	6. Cassandra & Sera - This is my bed, too!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For RipplesofAqua and the prompt "You can't banish me! This is my bed, too!"

It was unusual for the Inquisitor and their party to take rooms at an inn. For one, they rarely traveled through more densely inhabited areas, but also it was easier to keep an eye on their party when they had only their small camp to worry about. Patrons of inns, other people in general, brought with them too many unknowns, with this Cassandra agreed.

In the small hamlet they were in, however, there were few travelers around – and the innkeeper had been so effusively grateful to them for closing the rift on her land the Inquisitor had felt it rude to refuse the offer of free lodging for the night.

Besides, after freezing for days making their way through the inhospitable surroundings of the Emprise, they were all grateful for a warm, crackling fire to sit around indoors and for eiderdown duvets and fresh woolen blankets in their rooms – and the chance to let their snow-sludge-logged bedrolls dry out properly for once.

The only small drawback to the whole affair was the need for all of them to share rooms – and for some of them to share the larger beds.

This was, however, nothing that Cassandra was overly concerned about. They were all mature enough to know this was borne out of necessity and exhausted enough at this point not to refuse a comfortable and dry bed when the opportunity presented itself.

Only.

Only Cassandra had ended up sharing a room with Sera, who turned out to be the most restless sleeper Cassandra had ever encountered. Something that was even more noticeable when sharing a rather bouncy matress.

While Sera was getting comfortable, Cassandra had kept still and focused her mind on the chant to distract herself with something familiar that would calm her frayed nerves. There was no point allowing herself to grow impatient. Eventually Sera would go to sleep and then she could, too.

Cassandra had just dozed off after getting slowly used to Sera’s tossing and turning beside her, when something, some movement, woke her. What were those sounds?

She turned towards Sera, half-asleep. It seemed the elf was in the throes of a nightmare, limbs twitching and mumbling under her breath. Concerned, Cassandra reached out and put her hand on Sera’s shoulder.

“Sera?” she mumbled drowsily, “Are you alright?”

The punch connected neatly with her solar plexus and Cassandra jolted fully awake in an instant, groaning from the impact.

“Ugh, Sera! What in the Maker’s-” She sat bolt upright, blankets slipping off her with the sudden movement.

There was only a small whine as Sera turned away from her, taking all of the now-freed blankets with her.

Cassandra lit the lantern on the table beside the bed, to make sure there was no other threat about and that she had judged the situation correctly.

It appeared she had. Everything was quiet and Sera was now curled away from her, mostly hidden in the bulk of the blankets. Her whining had stopped, as had her frantic small movements.

Cassandra watched for a while to make sure Sera had really calmed down and then sighed. There was no point in trying to get the blankets back – and it would likely be unwise to disturb Sera once she was calmly sleeping, besides, she would feel bad for trying.

But could she trust the current calm? Cassandra carefully left the bed to get her scarf and a well-worn book from her satchel and settled back down on her side of the bed to read until she felt sleepy again.

She must have dozed off eventually, because the she awoke to a kick and the sudden feeling of being smothered. She struggled to free herself of the pile of woolen cloth and gasped for air. 

It took only seconds to realize Sera had rolled over to Cassandra’s side of the bed and had brought all of the duvet and blankets with her, neatly depositing most of them on Cassandra’s head. 

Ugh.

It could no longer go on like this.

Determined, she sat up and formed a plan. Sera seemed to be still sleeping soundly. She could probably be shifted carefully over to the other side of the bed, and then Cassandra could keep one of the blankets and leave the duvet and other blankets neatly arranged around Sera, making sure they would at least both stay warm for the rest of the night.

First, Cassandra slowly disentangled herself and Sera from the mound of blankets fully and shifted them to the end of the bed. Then she carefully rolled Sera away from her, intending to simply lift her up and move her.

She had underestimated the depth of Sera’s slumber, however, because as soon as she had moved her arm underneath Sera’s head she was met with a sudden headbutt and hail of rather sharp fists to her sides.

“Argh! Ger'off!”

Cassandra sat back, stunned and holding her nose, while stars danced in front of her eyes. “Sera!” she shouted somewhat nasally, “It’s only me! I’m sorry.”

Sera blinked at her in confusion. “Weirdy! What are you playing at?”

“Ugh. You smothered me in blankets. I just wanted to…” Cassandra began rather brusquely.

Sera’s eyes grew large as saucers. “You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

“What?! I was not going to-” Cassandra was taken aback. “I simply wanted to shift you back over!”

“Well, you could have said!” Sera was pouting now, her small frame shivering from the cold. “And don’t you look at me like that. Take that pity face and… and…”

Cassandra was too tired for an argument. “Ugh. Just take however many of the blankets you want and leave me one, alright?”

Sera took a deep breath and frowned and grabbed some blankets. As she cocooned herself in them, turning away from Cassandra and shifting over to the furthest edge of her side of the bed, Cassandra felt increasingly uneasy with the situation.

“Sera?” She tried again more calmly.

There was no response.

“Sera, I am sorry if I startled you. I did not want to wake you because you were having nightmares earlier and I thought you needed your rest.”

There were some movements in the blanket cocoon as Sera muttered. “Scary, rubbish demons.”

“Do you wish to talk about it?” Cassandra offered tentatively.

“No! No, I don’t want to talk about the stupid demons. I’d like to sleep, thanks!” Sera flipped back over onto her back, her eyes scrunched shut, lips puckered in an impressive scowl.

Cassandra sighed. “I didn’t mean to trouble you.”

It took a moment, but then Sera’s face mellowed. “We’re alright.” She conceded. “Besides, you’re gonna fight them off, right?”

“Sorry?” Now Cassandra was confused.

“The demons that try and come to get me in the night. You’ll kick their arses, yeah?”

Cassandra laughed. “Yes. Yes, I will ‘kick their arses’ if you want me to.”

“Right.” Sera shot her a lopsided grin. “Good night then!”

And there were no demons and no more nightmares – and they slept soundly until morning. 

 

.


	7. In the water/in the bath (Cassandra/Josephine)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: cuddles - in the water/in the bath

Private baths are a luxury. Josephine sinks into the ostentatious tub with a sigh as delicious heat travels through her tired limbs, soothing and relaxing her aching muscles. Her back does not thank her for the hours spent standing still and politicking with the Orlesian nobility. Halamshiral does, however, have the benefit of opulent baths and other such treats that she has often missed at Haven and Skyhold. 

The gilded tub is set into the marble floor and, like the floor, added heat permeates from below, keeping it at a constant temperature. It is large and Josephine stretches out, trying to work the kinks out of her back, but still does not reach the other side with her foot.

She has been looking forward to this treat all night. A reward for herself – and for Cassandra. Behind her she hears a door open, and Cassandra’s familiar, measured steps approach. The footfalls are not heavy; she is not wearing her customary boots, but neither does she try to walk softly and disguise her approach. Cassandra is always, reassuringly, without any pretense or guile.

Their relationship is still a new and skittish thing sometimes. Josephine watches as Cassandra now comes into view, a tender smile slowly lighting up her face. She disrobes confidently and quickly, and steps into the water on the opposite side of the ornate tub.

There are rose petals in the water. When Cassandra notices them, Josephine feels a small burst of triumph as the blush visibly darkens Cassandra’s skin and spreads all over her shoulders. This is, she feels, entirely the effect of her endeavors to provide a romantic setting – and possibly only a little due to the wonderful heat of the water.

The scent of roses envelops them in clouds of steam that smell of sunsets, light and warm pinks and reds.

“This is lovely,” Cassandra says after a short while.

“One of the benefits of life at the Orlesian court.” Josephine allows. “The roses are Antivan, imported from the Green Dales, or so I am told. They are renowned even in Orlais for their perfume.”

Cassandra closes her eyes as Josephine feels unable to stop herself from relaying to her love all she knows about the roses in question until her brain finally slows down, at last lulled by the water’s heat.

Josephine is happy, then, to simply soak and relax, and watch Cassandra let go of the tension in her body bit by bit as she also sinks more deeply into the water – eyes still closed.

Josephine’s own eyes must have shut for a moment – the day really was tiring – because she is suddenly startled by the water’s movement and waves lapping against her chin. Cassandra offers an apologetic smile and Josephine smiles back tiredly but fondly.

Cassandra unpins and unwinds her braid. There is such comfort now in familiar gestures – Cassandra undoing her hair. In the low light of the room the water glistens golden on Cassandra’s arms and all around her as the muscles shift under her skin. Josephine is mesmerized by their slow dance as she marvels at the beauty of Cassandra’s shoulders. She has to bite her lip when Cassandra looks up and catches her eye – and now she can feel yet another heat rise within her, meeting the blush almost scalding her her with its intensity.

Cassandra’s laugh is quiet and low, but Josephine could swear she feels its vibration spread through the water and resonate with in her own body.

“Come, “ Cassandra says simply and opens her arms with a smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.

Josephine gladly accepts the invitation and her heart sings as she sinks into Cassandra’s embrace.

She is  all heat now: molten, slow, languid and her veins full of spices – still enveloped in clouds of summer sunset smells – and Cassandra’s copper and gold.

She feels so lightheaded – and light – that she is sure the water could carry her away, but her lover’s embrace is strong, mooring her in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day, Pentilyet fans!
> 
> (And thank you RipplesofAqua for the beta.)


	8. Cuddles - with a first kiss (Josephine/Leliana)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Octobig - and the prompt "cuddling with a first kiss."

These arms around her are sanctuary: silken defenses against the past. Josephine is more precious than anything she ever deserved. A promise of salvation, even after Haven. 

Leliana tries to feel only Josephine's warmth shared in kindness. It is a miracle her friend has invited her into her bed. It is only for comfort, Leliana chides herself. The kind gesture of a soft-hearted friend. They may become more but-

“Better?” Josephine's breath tickles her neck. 

Leliana turns to Josephine, is rendered speechless when she sees her face, dark and golden in the candlelight. 

A look - no words. Soft lips bring answers to her prayers.


	9. Josephine/Cassandra - "Of course I remembered."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Linguini and the prompt "Of course I remembered."

When she had made the offer things had been different: Skyhold still at war with Corypheus, the workload and worry that that entailed, Josephine in the midst of it, herself gone with the Inquisitor most of the time… She had grasped at straws then trying to find ways to offer Josephine and herself a moment of peace and solitude – somewhere where one might – where they might… where she might show the ambassador how much she meant to her.

_You know it is a rare chance to be able to see both of Thedas’ moons in one night? When they convene again I would love to show you._

She remembers Josephine’s smile at that. Her expression’s shift to wonder and something else she does not try to think about in case she was mistaken.

The night is cold on this late summer day. The wind makes her shiver when it finds the the hair – the sweat – at the nape of her neck. She is nervous. Waiting here with blankets and brandy – Antivan, obtained in secret when she last was in Orlais with daydreams of pleasing Josephine and seeing the joy on her face - she hopes she is not making a fool of herself. 

Maybe she is waiting in vain. So much has happened since they talked about this. Maybe she should have reminded-

A twig breaks under feet. Cassandra’s eyes dart to the spot and the light of her lantern gleams on Josephine’s golden collar – the rest is hidden by a heavy cloak.

“Ah,” Josephine mock-whispers when she catches her eye, “I am afraid my skills as a bard have suffered lately.”

Cassandra’s could swear heart beats more quickly now than at the approach of a dragon. “You remembered.”

Josephine smiles and accepts the blanket Cassandra is holding out to her. “Of course I remembered.”

They are very close now, Cassandra could swear she feels the heat – like the Antivan sun – radiating off Josephine. She is so very close and radiant. Words fail her, but there is no need to speak.

They settle down on rough blankets and sip the brandy. Josephine is closer still.

The moons above them mirror their movement. 

The night is theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, my headcanon for the moons of Thedas is that there are two of them but, whereas you can always see the one - the other only meets up with the first occasionally. Magic? Science?


	10. Nevarran customs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written originally as "something cute" to cheer cassandrapentayaaaaas up. 
> 
> Second person pov. You & Sera & Cassandra.

"Did you know Nevarrans keep pet beetles for luck?" Sera plucks idly at the grass where you and her sit and watch Cassandra train. 

"They do? Why?" You are not quite certain she is not making this up on the spot. You are sitting in the grass after all - there may be beetles. 

"I just heard it, right? What?" Sera draws up her knees and hugs them to her as she eyes you quizzically. "Don't believe me? Well, you could go and ask her." Her freckled chin sticks out defiantly - pointing at Cassandra.

You walk up to the resident Nevarran feeling a little dubious about what Sera has just talked you into. “Cassandra?” 

It is not so much a disgusted noise as a resigned sigh that greets you when she turns around and sees you standing there – her eyes flicking up and over your shoulder – no doubt taking in the grinning elven rogue sitting back there in the grass. “What do you want?” She demands carefully. 

“Well,” you begin, “would you answer a question?”

“That depends,” she replies as she steps closer to you (and you could swear she possesses a magical ability that makes her grow several inches for sheer virtue of intimidation as she inexplicably seems to loom over you far higher than any human should,) “entirely on your question.” 

You swallow deeply, but it is too late to back down now. “I have heard that Nevarrans traditionally keep beetles for luck.” The pause is longer than expected. 

“Your question, then?” Cassandra eyes you with what you could swear is some amusement. 

“Well,” you stutter, “do... do you?” 

Cassandra's eyebrows rise impressively. “Do I keep a pet beetle for luck?” 

There is no backing down now. “I mean, you might. I would not consider it strange. People do all kinds of things for luck. A pet beetle certainly is no less outlandish than-” 

You are mercifully interrupted at this point by another shout from across the yard. “Oi! So is the beetle thing true then?” 

Cassandra laughs and you can feel the tension leave your body immediately. “My uncle did keep several in fact. In gilded cages. He bred them, too.” 

“He what?” Sera shouts from across the yard. 

“Come over then!” You shout back. Sera does so begrudgingly. 

“Did you have a beetle then?” She sticks her nose up at Cassandra and now looks completely unintimidated by the tall Seeker. 

“My beetles never brought me any luck as a child.” Cassandra suddenly seems more withdrawn. “So I gave up on the practice.” 

Sera nods sagely considering this, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Thank you anyway for answering.” 

You also thank the Seeker and make you way back to the tavern with Sera. 

“Do you think we could find her a lucky one?” Sera asks as you round the corner. It takes you the better part of the afternoon to dissuade her of the notion. 

When you return to your quarters there is a small box on your bed with a note attached. It reads: 

> _May he bring you more luck than he brought me._

Sitting inside the box is a green enamel pin in the shape of a beetle.


End file.
